Page 27 of Ugly: The Stepsister's Story

‘You are the one shutting yourself away from the world,’ a voice at the back of my mind said. ‘You can’t blame anyone else for moving on with their lives.’

I stood up, a smile plastered across my face. “I want you to be happy, Mother.” I hugged her and left her and Comfort to discuss wedding preparations.

The next few weeks passed in a flurry of invitations, cake testing, wedding dress sewing, and a multitude of other tasks. For this I was grateful—I had a purpose again! Comfort and Mother needed me to work on the wedding dress, carefully address each envelope, and prepare the decorations. I still retreated back upstairs any time we had guests, but I had each day filled with wedding preparations. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself when I was busy helping Mother.

Cynthia and her father came for dinner nearly every night. It was getting much more difficult to avoid them. I knew at some point I would have to meet them, but I was still so self-conscious. I wanted our first meeting to go well, but my embarrassment about my face kept me paralyzed by fear.

The wedding was only a month away. I knew I needed to greet Cynthia and her father soon. But with each passing day, it felt like it was now too late to meet them. What had Mother and Comfort told them about me?

One evening while we sat around the fire, creating each invitation by hand, I asked, “What do Cynthia and Algernon know about me?”

“That you are a talented linguist, that you enjoy horseback riding, and that you were very close with Father,” Comfort said.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

Mother smiled understandingly. “I told Algernon about the incident in Avivia when he asked how Cuthbert died. I did ask him to not tell Cynthia. I thought perhaps that was too personal an experience to share with just anybody, and I would certainly never spread around any information I knew you didn’t want people to know about.”

Comfort nodded. “I didn’t say anything to either of them.” She squeezed my knee. “That is your story to tell. It doesn’t matter what someone looks like, but who they are as a person. They will understand that.”

Tears welled in my eyes. They were so good to me. So patient and kind. “Thank you,” I whispered.

The next day after Comfort had been to town, I found a bag full of cosmetics, brushes, and creams outside my bedroom door, along with an intricately carved hand mirror. “To help you see the beauty we already see in you. We miss your confidence,” was written on the card.

CHAPTER 22

“You can’t stay shut up in this room forever you know.” Comfort stood in the doorway to my living quarters. It was the day of the engagement party for Mother and Algernon, and instead of helping get ready, I found that it was much, much easier to stay in my winged armchair, flipping pages in my book as sunshine poured through the open window.

“I know,” I said meekly, but made no effort to rise.

“Come down to meet everyone tonight,” implored Comfort.

“I don’t want to,” I said, squirming. “I will wait until the wedding.”

“Well tonight isn’t about you!” Comfort snapped back. “It is about Mother and her husband-to-be. A fine outlook it would be if one of her own daughters didn’t even show up and stayed upstairs, pouting like a baby.”

I glared at Comfort. She met my gaze, unfazed. “You know it is the right thing to do.” She was extra annoying when she was right.

I humphed and turned away from her. “I will think about it,” I muttered.

“Great, I will see you there!” Comfort trilled, heading out to the corridor. “I still have things to set up.”

“I just said I would think about it!” I called after her. I hoped she heard me. She was probably ignoring what I said.

I had no interest in leaving my room. In being seen by anyone other than Mother or Comfort. I was curious to meet this mysterious Algernon and Cynthia, but shuddered to think what they might say when they saw me.

But Comfort was right. With all Mother had been through, it was the least I could do to put on a happy face for her for a few hours. Smile, congratulate them, and meet my new stepfather.

Stepfather. The word felt odd in my mind and strange when I tried to say it out loud. I really didn’t know much about this Algernon at all, other than that he was a merchant and had a daughter close to my age. I knew his wife had died during childbirth, but that was all. I supposed as long as he made Mother happy, it wouldn’t much matter what I thought of him.

I couldn’t help but feel like Mother was betraying Father’s memory a little. It hadn’t even been a year since he passed away, and she was already moving on to another man? It felt wrong. Granted, I didn’t want Mother to pine for Father eternally. But I had assumed she would stay single forever, never having a romantic relationship again, just reliving the memories she had with Father.

That was ridiculous, of course. I couldn’t expect Mother to commit to a lifetime of loneliness. And I knew she was just as lonely as I was, if not more so.

I sighed aloud, dragged myself out of my armchair, and plodded over to the wardrobe. Every dress I had seemed wrong. Too bright, too gaudy, didn’t have a veil to match. But I also didn’t want to wear dark, mourning colors. This was supposed to be a happy occasion.

Glumly, I sorted through my outfits again. I finally selected a light blue dress with pale pink trimmings around the hems and wrists. It was a little brighter than I would have liked, but my hope was that everyone else would be wearing even louder colors than mine.

I then pulled out the new bag of cosmetics and began the lengthy process of applying them. It was my first time attempting it. I had to uncover my mirror; I had taken to leaving a blanket tossed over it to spare myself from my reflection. Now I studied my face critically. The red boils and peeling, thankfully, had ended months ago. But now I had to camouflage my pinched, taught skin to appear normal.

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